8 de out de 2016

to those lovers I did not love

to those with sad eyes
for which I no longer daydream
to the mouths that were once dry
and now are as thus they shall be

to the whispers I did not hear
and the touch, either warm or cold
to the heartbeats that were only fear
to Love, and its reputation to uphold

regret not! for the heart has
its own cunning curves;
and a moment is but a moment:
be it joy, be it lust.

and weep, yes, if you may
for the unwritten verses
for there is a time to say
and there is a time to shut

you see, friend, the world
is a pulsating force

and hence, there is no choice
other than pulsate and come and go

though exquisite song we were
so it is written, so it shall be done
for a bird must fly free, that is for sure
and one cannot love 
a love that is not their own.

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